Henshin!
by Arancia-chan
Summary: One morning, a certain Kuroko Tetsuya woke up feeling like the day would be more annoying than usual. His respect for Momoi went up a few notches that day.


I wrote this around... 2013 I think, and haven't continued it since. I'll just post this here and see the responses. If it's good I might continue it.

Warning: Craziness, OOCness

Standard disclaimer applies.

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**Henshin! [a Kurobasu crackfiction]**

One morning, a certain Kuroko Tetsuya woke up feeling like the day would be more annoying than usual. The feeling might come from being exposed to so many craziness everyday ever since he had joined as regular in Teikou's basketball team… which was about a year and a half ago… which meant he'd had his fair share of craziness and insanity being shown to him. He could even say that the amount of strange, almost impossible yet still happening occurrences that he had seen were more than what someone remotely normal like him should see. That was why Kuroko had developed an ability of some sort to predict that something—either bad or just plain crazy—would happen to him.

And if he had those feeling, he would first thing ask a certain eccentric shooting guard about his lucky item for the day. It wasn't like he believed in horoscope, see. But he would rather do anything he could to prevent what he had felt happening than just waiting to see what would happen to him.

Not that it had helped him any.

No matter.

Groping around for his phone while rubbing his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness, Kuroko noticed that somehow his chest felt heavy and he had a difficulty in breathing. Dismissing them as hints of his bad luck and too tight shirt, Kuroko sat up and dialled Midorima Shintarou's cell phone.

Click.

_"What a bad luck for me to be receiving call from you first thing in the morning, Kuroko."_

Trust Midorima to be cranky even in the morning. Or maybe he was normally like that. Oh well. Not his problem.

"Good morning, Midorima-kun. I am having a bad premonition so I thought I should ask you about my horoscope for today. That is, if you don't mind me asking."

Considering that Midorima was always disgruntled that no one believed in whatever bullshit he was spouting about horoscope, having someone—even if he didn't particularly like that someone—ask him about a topic he loved was something he took much pleasure in. Though, he made sure no one knew about it since it could be perceived as weakness. What he didn't know was that everyone in his team knew about this. They just didn't bother to tell him to stop trying to hide it.

_"Hmph. Since I am feeling generous, I will tell you your zodiac reading."_ There was a sound of clothes ruffling, faraway buzz of girly voice and silent steps before Midorima continued his speech. _"Huh. What a strange thing to be a lucky item."_

_'I doubt anything could be any weirder than the things you brought, Midorima-kun,'_ Kuroko thought bluntly.

_"Well, Kuroko. It seems that your luck today is particularly bad. It would do you well to stay close to a Sagittarius. And also, do stay away from Virgo__… and Scorpio__. They bring even bigger doom to you. Also, today's lucky item is…"_ Midorima trailed off, coughing awkwardly—no doubt also blushing slightly—like the tsundere he was. _"A... *cough* red D cup bra."_

Kuroko was stunned into silence. Well, that was certainly a strange thing to be a lucky item. "Did you not mishear it, Midorima-kun? Perhaps it is the reading for female Aquarius?"

Even though he couldn't see him, Kuroko knew that Midorima had just scowled. _"I would never do embarrassing thing such as mishear something, Kuroko. You are underestimating my hearing here."_

_'You just being yourself is already quite embarrassing, Midorima-kun.'_

Of course Kuroko would not say that to Midorima. He still had the will to live, thank you very much. "I apologize. Very well, I will ask Momoi-san if she has—"

_"W-what are you saying, Kuroko?!"_ Midorima cut him off, sounding horrified.

Kuroko was silent for a while before letting out a confused 'what?' at the green haired teen. Midorima was sputtering from the other side of the phone and Kuroko couldn't understand what was wrong with what he said. After all, who else should he ask if he wanted a bra other than his only female acquaintance? Midorima-kun sure was a strange person_…_.

_"A-anyway! Don't ask of such thing to Momoi! Ask your mother or someone else you are related to!"_ the shooting guard insisted.

"My mother is out of town, Midorima-kun."

Kuroko could imagine Midorima's eyebrow twitching in annoyance._ "Whatever! Just don't ask Momoi!"_

Kuroko shrugged, feeling the same heaviness from before again. He idly wondered why that was and if it would go away soon. Such heaviness would strain shoulders and muscle strain for a basketball player was a no-no. "I understand. Thanks for your assistance, Midorima-kun." With that he ended the call. "I better get ready before I am late for school."

And thus Kuroko Tetsuya stood up from his bed and went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. It was when he looked at the mirror that he finally realized the significance of the D cup bra. He frowned and his lips tilted down in a slight scowl. "No wonder my chest felt heavy," he muttered to himself, sighing in exasperation.

Another call was made.

_"Why, hello, Tetsuya. I feel so delighted to have received your call so early in the morning."_

Kuroko didn't know whether the statement was to be taken as it was or if Akashi was just being sarcastic. He decided to ignore the sentence altogether.

"Good morning, Akashi-kun. I hope you had a great sleep," he stated blandly, sitting down on his bed once more. He blinked when he saw something missing from between his legs. He dared not to even touch the place to check, so he just moved his sight to the ceilings.

_"I did. But I doubt you would call me just to speak nonsense, Tetsuya. Do you need something?"_ Kuroko knew that had Akashi been in front of him, the taller teen would smile and his eyes would have a certain glint in them.

Kuroko nodded even as he said, "Yes. I seem to have found myself in a troublesome situation, Akashi-kun," he started, hearing a hum from Akashi as a sign for him to continue. "Do you perhaps have a red coloured D cup bra?"

.

.

.

_"Pardon, Tetsuya? Could you repeat that once more?"_ Akashi sounded doubtful. Kuroko didn't blame him. It wasn't normal for a middle school boy to just ask for something like that. To another boy, no less.

"I asked if you have a red coloured D cup bra, Akashi-kun," repeated Kuroko more slowly. He looked down at his chest, grimacing inwardly at the big size of it. He had walked with them earlier and it felt as if his world was tilted forward. It was hard to stay upright because the two sizeable mounds of flesh would always drag him to follow the gravity.

Kuroko heard Akashi cough on the other side of the phone. Maybe it was a bad idea to call Akashi after all. Maybe he should really call Momoi instead. Kuroko sighed.

_"Tetsuya,"_ he heard Akashi said, his tone had a chiding quality to it. It sounded like his mother's when he had done something disappointing._ "I know that you are currently in the process of growing up to be an adult. And I know how curious adolescent in puberty is. But I don't want you to be thrust into the wrong path, Tetsuya. You do understand, yes?"_

Kuroko sighed once more. "It's not that, Akashi-kun," he said, scratching his head and noticing that his hair had grown about five inches longer. "I seem to have turned into a female overnight."

Another stunned silence.

_"I… will come over to your place with the… article of clothing with me along with female uniform. Do not inform anyone else about this yet, Tetsuya."_

"Understood."

Click.

Heaving a heavy breath, Kuroko lay back on his bed and waited for Akashi to come get him with his new get ups. The flesh on his chest bounced with the movement. Kuroko's eyebrow twitched slightly. Man, being a girl sure was annoying.

His respect for Momoi went up a few notches that day.

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Thanks for reading. Please review if you do want me to continue this.


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